Dig it
by TrumpetBeast
Summary: Blair and Jim are visiting Port Charles when Blair gets sick of Jim's habits and leaves. Meanwhile, things are tense at PH and Spinelli needs a break.  The two meet up and have an adventure, while their mentors freak out.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1-So done, man

Warning: subtle, non-graphic references of sexual nature.

I do not own the shows Sentinel or General Hospital, or this would have happened.

The story takes place a while after Spinelli came to live at PH. Sam is living there too. I haven't watched Sentinel yet, but I get the premise. Blair is alive and he and Jim are in Port Charles on business. AU and Jim isn't quite right at first either.

Spinelli whimpered and lay back onto the cushion of his arm, silent tears forcing their ways past his eyes. Affairs were tense in the penthouse. With Sam and Jason arguing constantly in between yelling at him and people bursting in at all states at all hours, it was hard to get any peace. He was grateful to have a place to stay, even if the room was pink, but not in a house so tumultuous that the pink made him think of blood. Not to mention they all shared the same bathroom. Sam obsessed about her appearance constantly and covered the vanity and shower in products, as even tough ladies will do. Jason probably never looked in the mirror, but he always had to make a big deal about tidying up and sniffing dubiously at products, sometimes even throwing them away. As for Spinelli, he just wanted to take care of his business, which always seemed hard to do with the other two's absorbing peculiarities. The Jackal wanted some privacy, and fast.

He sighed. Brooding all day would not help the matter. PH felt stuffy and as long as he wanted to get work done in a desk not by a highway, he was going to have to leave. Thinking that maybe he could go to a coffee shop-not Sonny's, mind you- and get an orange soda, he smiled and donned his shoulder bag and cap(Whatever did happen to it later?) and snuck out the door.

What he heard stopped him clear in his tracks.

"Darn it Sam, just get out. I've had enough of you, both of you. Git!"

That struck the wrong chord. Spinelli had been embarrassed hiding behind Lulu to get some digs, and now that he accepted Stonecold as a mentor and Sam as a friend is was hard not to feel wanted.

There was a wail and Sam brushed past him in the hall, running for their room. Spinelli stood frozen, hurt and unsure what to do. Should he retreat to his room and lay low, lamenting the lack of a lock on the door and hoping it would all pass over and be okay? Or should he risk the chance of running into a fuming Jason on his way out, or the locks being changed while he was gone? Maybe he should pack his bags and crawl out of the window. He stood there for a long moment, then nodded his head and slipped back into his room, shutting the door softly behind him.

Calmly, or as much as he could be, with his mind spinning and his hands shaking, he tossed his meager possessions in the trunk from beneath the bed. It didn't quite all fit. The baggage, good and bad, from being here wouldn't go in the suitcase that he'd come with. Struggling with his emotions, he separated out everything Jason had given him from the menagerie on the bed. It wasn't his to take and he refused. Maybe he'd taken just a little from a dysfunctional family, but he felt more sure that he'd taken the family, the couple, and made them that way. He was the splinter driving between Jason and Sam and Jason and Sonny. In the clear light of day, he saw their loath and their anger. Now they could be free of his burden, and if he wasn't a burden, then why did they treat him as one? I love you too guys, he thought, feeling sick and zipping up the bag.

Blair had gotten home from a long afternoon of studying at the library after their morning stakeout to find Jim wasted on the bed with an oddly coherent and sober maiden of beauty. Nice catch, Jim, he thought wryly, taking off his shoes and carrying them towards his room off the main bedroom of the hotel room. Before he reached there, she drew her somewhat nude body off Jim's belly, and lying provocatively acroos the man, cast her violet eyes upon Blair.

"Want a turn, sweetheart?" She whispered.

Blair felt his upper lip go up in disgust and horror. She was lying on top of another man, his friend, his _best_ friend, asking him if-Gosh, couldn't Jim just find one nicer girl, to stay, instead a new one every night? Blair had told him a thousand times, all while nursing him back to health from the latest drinking binge and begging pardons from Simon. He was sick of dealing with this. He walked into his room and turned the top light on, shutting and locking the door behind him.

He lay down on the bed, spread out and gazed at the ceiling. He felt distant and tired, and knew that he might fall asleep right on top of the covers in his clothes but he didn't really care. Nestling his head on his arm, he began to drift off…

There was a soft knock on the door and a quiet, husky voice called

"Ready Honey?"

OMG. He was glad he'd locked the door, but still scared. What if she stayed there long? What if Jim woke up and got the wrong idea? He felt himself panicking, not able to rest with her outside the door. Last time he'd checked, sweetheart was something his mom called him and honey was a sweetener for tea. He sat down in chair and all but whimpered. Maybe he could call someone, like Simon, to come rescue him. What could he say though, help, I'm cornered by a girl and I can't handle it. They already thought he was a wuss, and he'd never live this one down. Of course that had never stopped him before. He was seriously considering it when he realized that the landline was in the main room and his phone was dead. It wasn't like he could borrow hers. Besides, he was a long ways from home.

Blair waited the girl out until she dressed (he hoped) and left, shutting the hotel door behind her. Shoving on his shoes, he left his room and stopped, looking at the prone figure on the couch.

"I am so done with this man. So done," he said, slipping out sadly without looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN GENERAL HOSPITAL OR SENTINEL

A/n: It's pretty funny how alike Blair and Spinelli are, if you think about it. I was pretty bored with the ending of this, but oh well.

Blair was shuffling along the shadowy boulevard, his head bowed and his backpack heavy. The sun had set and dark clouds blanketed the sky in rolling clods. It was frigid outside, far colder than it had been with the weak sunlight shifting through the fog. Evidently everyone else knew how miserable Port Charles was on a winter night, for even the homeless seemed to be tucked away in cozy hovels. He was thankful-after one evening of withstanding it he would have given all his money away to stop a regular's suffering.

He halted at a streetlight shifted uncomfortably, jamming his thumbs under the straps of the pack to keep it from digging into his sore shoulders. What now? Hotels cost too much, he hardly made it by anyway. It would cost a fortune to drink all night, and beside, he couldn't hold much more than a beer. Even the library was probably closed, and the place back with Jim, warm under blankets with a good book was awfully tantalizing. No, he thought firmly. You resolved to leave, and Naomi's son keeps his word. Anything could be going on there, and besides, he had no idea how to get back. What was he going to do?

Blair moved to cross the street, stalking across when a car burst forth around the corner, spraying up water from a puddle in the gutter. It came towards him, huge and swerving drunkenly, the bumper plowing forth like the hull of a Navy ship. He paused for a second in shock then, as it was almost upon him, gasped and lunged out of the way, slipping on the gravely street as he slid and collapsing onto the hard pavement. The impact drove the air of his lungs and his chin throbbed agonizingly from its rather direct plunge. The stars finally came out, so it seemed, for he saw a good few.

Suddenly, there was a gently hand on his shoulder and a puff of warm air against his ear as a gently voice whispered:

"Are you alright? My oh my. Should the Jackal call General Hospital perhaps, or Jase-, no not him. Calm down, what do I do…"

The voice retreated as the person crouched back on their heels on the street and rummaged in their pocket for a cell phone. Blair, panting, finally regained his breath, and rolled over carefully, clutching his chin.

"M okay," he grunted, his jaw aching from the effort.

"Oh!" Exclaimed the boy, shaking his shaggy eyes from over his eyes. He smiled, then frowned quickly and muttered, "Indeed, the Jackal feared the worst for the Burdened One, when that Titanic burst forth so. You best come inside," he paused, looking off at a distant streetlight while Blair sat up cautiously and rubbed his head. The 'jackal' came from his distraction. "It's cold out here." With that he firmly grasped the other man's elbow and pulled him to his feet, ushering him through the narrow doorway of a tiny bar right ahead of them.

A few guys looked up, chuckling when they came in. The young man firmly led him over to a stool. The bartender looked up from polishing a tumbler.

"Hey Spinelli and friend. What can I get you?" he asked.

Blair scratched his aching head and looked over at his newfound friend, who was grinning, his eyes bright, and staring at the football game. He sure looked happy.

"Whatever he's having," Blair grumbled finally, turning back. He leaned on the counter as the man turned away. Spinelli turned to him.

"I'm Blair Sandburg, by the way." Said Blair, by way of introductions, holding out his hand.

"So nice to meet you! I'm Damian Spinelli. The Jackal is greatly relieved for some company, on this lonely night. It seems that Stonecold and Fair Samantha are quite agitated presently, and the Jackal had to leave PH, which was his home." He frowned a little at this proclamation, looking forlorn, but then smiled at Blair. "'Tis no matter though, with a kind friend so readily at hand…" He continued chattering as the bartender brought Blair his drink and gave him a sympathetic glance. Blair ignored him and tuned into Spinelli, sipping his orange soda and feeling content.

"Spinelli. Spinelli….." called Jason, standing at the base of the stairs. Now that Sam had left he could use some company to sympathize and ease his guilt. Even if that company was the talkative computer geek. He knew he'd probably regret his choice later, but then he could just send Spinelli off with Georgie or something.

There was no reply from upstairs. Jason strode up the stairs and knocked on the door, opening the door when there was no answer. What the heck? The pink room was empty, the bed made, and most of Spinelli's stuff was gone. He frowned and walked over to the window. How did the kid leave without him noticing? Then he recalled seeing Spinelli come down the stairs while he and Sam were arguing in the kitchen. Maybe the kid had just gone out for a while, but he wouldn't have taken all his stuff. As Jason was puzzling, he noticed a white envelope on the table with his name on the front. He frowned, and seeing his name on it, reaching out and picked it up. Ripping it open he pulled out a folded sheet of computer paper covered in elegant cursive. It read:

"_Stonecold, _

_ The Jackal apologizes greatly, for in this time of dire need he can not be of assistance. At last, Stonecold and Fair Samantha's incessant disagreement has pushed him beyond his limits. For now, at least, the regrettably pink room is returned in the best condition. Your gifts have been returned. As always, the Jackal is indebted to Stonecold, but he feels the need to work away from your tumultuous abode. _

_Sincerely, _

_ THE JACKAL"_

On the bottom of the paper was his phone number, as if Jason could forget it. He shook his head. That kid really was something. Where would he stay anyway? Jason felt the twinge of guilt, realizing that everything Spinelli had said was true. He and Sam did argue a lot, and one of them was also bargaining for his side in the agreement or for his sympathy. He sighed. Why tonight? But the thought of Spinelli shivering in the cold was enough incentive. This was his fault-well, partially Sam's too, but he needed to go find his friend.

He called Georgie first, and got Maxie.

"Can I please just talk to her?"

"No! She's doesn't want to talk to you, now." Jason sighed. That really didn't sound like the Georgie to him.

"Fine, then. Tell her to call me if Spinelli shows up, or she hears about him." He heard Maxie breathe in sharply, as if firing up for a rant, and slammed the phone off quickly. It was a close call. He dialed Lulu next, then Alexis, Sonny's office, the Metro court, and finally even Miriam, Spinelli's tough grandmother.

"Good heavens! You've lost him again?" She exclaimed, her concern evident.

"Yeah, I don't know, he just left." He sighed, frustrated, and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't know how to deal with this, he didn't want to try to explain.

"Well, I know my boy, and I bet that's not it. You go find him, and tell him your sorry, and take care of him better next time. And I expect a visit or at least a call soon, too, you tell him that!" She said kindly. Jason smiled a little, comforted a little by her words.

"Yeah, keep warm, Ma'am."

"Bye-bye." He heard her cough and sigh before setting the phone into the cradle. Keep warm? He hadn't said that since, since the accident. As for "Ma'am" he hardly remembered the last time he'd been that polite, and it made him feel like a kid again. He rolled his eyes and headed out, slipping into his jacket.

Jim groaned and rolled over, stretching. He glanced at the clock and realized that it was almost seven o'clock. Sitting up, he tapped his smiled and scratched his head. Tonight seemed like a good night. He was hungry, and knew for a fact that there was a nice pasta place down the street from the hotel. Smiling, he stood up and poked around the room. The girl he'd picked up earlier seemed to be gone- oh, well he hadn't planned on her staying. Blair's grey socks were hung on the shower rod to dry. Jim was pretty sure that they hadn't been there earlier. Blair wasn't there though, maybe he'd made some friends here. Still, this was a kind of tense case, and he thought he'd made it clear that he wanted to know when his friend went somewhere. Blair had probably just forgot, he reasoned, shrugging. They could go out somewhere together tomorrow.

But as he walked by, he stopped. Something was out of place. He cautiously opened Blair's door and peeped in. For one thing, Blair's suitcase and other stuff were all gone. Pulling up the comforter, he sniffed and smelled the salt of Blair's sweat, and well, fear. He could smell fear, as creepy as it was. Frowning, he looked around. There were no signs of a struggle, no smell of anyone but Blair and the person who'd had this room last. What had happened here?

That was when it hit him, like a brick wall at forty miles an hour. Dimly, through a dream, some words by a high voice above him, footsteps, dripping water. Silence, and more of his dream, which was private, then footsteps again, a door closing, a door opening. And finally, Blair's voice, soft but clear, breaking through the clouds of sleep-

"So done, man." Shoot! He grabbed Blair's dead cell phone off of the dresser and took off.


	3. Chapter 3

Spinelli was still talking. No kidding! The kid could talk forever. But so could Blair. He was amazed at how much they had in common. Both of them were against prejudice and all for breaking stereotypes. They both went to college early and had unstable family lives. They both liked cribbage and orange soda, barbeque chips, California rolls, California, blogging, and following mysteries. Neither of them had missed a single season of X-files or a new release of Halo. Not to mention that Star Trek was the lamest "tech" show ever and Rachel Ray was the hottest TV cook. And finally, why they were talking together in the first place- both of them had a mentor who they were upset with and had left with no place to go.

"You know," Spinelli speculated. "We could run away somewhere, I don't know. I have some money; you said you have a car?"

"Yeah, but its back in Cascade." He brushed off the idea and his companion moved on, gesturing enthusiastically and all but knocking over his drink. Still, Blair couldn't get it off his mind. He had his degree, Jim had control of his senses, his latest girlfriend had dumped him before they left, Naomi was at a retreat in Nepal- really there was nothing tying him down, making him go back. After all, however much he loved his job it scared him sometimes, with all the violence and creeps out there. He was brave but it took its toll.

They traded obscure quotations, and Spinelli was the first one _ever_ to beat him, which was intriguing. And unlike Jim he listened and understood what Blair was talking about. Jim tried to pay attention most of the time, but he didn't get half of what Blair said, especially when they first met. And unlike everybody at the Bullpen, Spinelli treated him like an equal, which wasn't a common occurrence for "Hairboy". It was turning out to be a better night than he had expected.

After about an hour, Spinelli suggested that they play a game of "Stone Soup". Blair had never played before, but he realized that it was a lot like BS, just with different cards, and rocks, or dead cards that you had to pawn off by lying and "salt and peppers" which allowed you to skip a turn. The game was an interesting call of human nature and technique. It was also somewhat curious that Spinelli had picked this game, because he sucked at lying. He'd just be talking normally, about whatever topic, and then when it came to his turn he would look terribly suspicious, scratching his nose and avoiding eye contact, and get called on it. Why did he want to play this? Blair wondered. Maybe he was proving that he was honest, thought Blair. Or to observe Blair himself, and see if he was trustworthy. But that wasn't the point of the game! Blair considered. You could lie, like the instructions told you to, and manipulate plays so that you could collect salt and peppers, which was how you won and ended the game. Or, you could question the rules and refer to your own values, playing truthfully and losing the game. He realized that perhaps this was a ritual deeper than the cards. Or it was just his intensive training in other cultures and meticulous attention to detail that were fooling him into considering that.

By the end of the game, Spinelli had most of the deck, from his poor lying on the second round of potatoes. Blair had all the salt and peppers, because after Spinelli had run out of potatoes he had salt and peppered him into submission and then obviously lied to get the stack. He also had three carrots, a tomato from the pile, and the four rocks he had had from the beginning. Then the pile got larger and larger. Spinelli put down all his cards. "Seven carrots." He announced, then turned them over to prove it. He had won.

"Got me," said Blair, puzzled, showing his friend his hand. Spinelli grinned. "You didn't lie. You had all the rocks in the deck, and you kept them all and got all the salt and peppers." He looked up into Blair's eyes for a long moment, considering him. "Interesting technique there," he said, shuffling the cards together and setting them back in the box. Maybe it had just been a card game after all.

"So," he said. "You're a computer hacker. You grab camera footage and stuff, or what?"

"Ah, yeah, more or less. The Jackal finds information for Stonecold to prove the truth and discovery mysteries. I worked for Lorenzo Alcazar, creating false evidence to incriminate Fair Samantha, before I was captured by Stonecold and forced to prove the evidence false, and yeah…. What do you do for a living?" Blair noted that it was the second or third time that Spinelli had slipped into first person, all within the last half hour. Perhaps his speech patterns were a safety mechanism between him and others that he didn't use when he felt safe with someone.

"I'm an anthropologist. I'm an instructor at a university. "

"Indeed. Where does you're work with Jim fit in with that?" Spinelli questioned, swirling the straw in his drink.

"I come with Jim on stake-outs and such, to help him stay focused, and uh, watch for snipers and stuff." Blair looked down. Usually he had a cover story, but it just didn't feel right lying to Spinelli. His friend seemed to realize that something was off there and backed off a little.

"What are you doing in Port Charles?"

"They called us in to track down some tricky criminals in the area. Apparently there has been some under-cover activity going on that they have had trouble sorting out. Mac Scorpio called us in," he paused, seeing some recognition in the boy's face at that name, "to find someone named Jason Morgan."

Jim was jogging along the sidewalk, his breath coming out in deep gasps, clear in the air and scents infiltrating his nose. Blair has been here, his hand on this light post, his foot on that patch of snow, the edge of the footprint still here. Jim frowns, stopping and sniffing at a street corner. What happened here? He stopped at the corner, then… Jim stepped off the curb and crouch down, smelling the pavement, listening to his nose. It was unfortunate that he had a sort of head cold, and Blair had been wearing enough layers that none of his skin had been showing and it was hard to smell. The range of Jim's nose was five feet right now, and he was six feet tall, so he had been stooping for a while now following the trail. In addition, all his other senses were messed up, from the new scenarios and freaking out about Blair.

Just then, a huge black SUV busted right through the stop sign, brushing his sleeve. He growled and stood up, grabbing the side of the bumper before he even thought. It was generally acknowledged that even though it seemed there was no special "Sentinel" strength, he had always been strong and worked out constantly. The street was icy. The car swung around, it's wheel running into deep gutter. Jim was now directly behind it's back wheel, meaning that until he moved they weren't going anywhere. He hoped at least.

Someone jumped out of the driver's side and ran over.

"What the heck was that?"

"You almost ran me over! I'm in a hurry!"

"Oh, I can tell! Sniffing the pavement. What are you, a perfume tester looking for-"

"I'm looking for my friend, you selfish jerk. He could be freezing to death right now-" The man's face changed and he looked almost sympathetic, putting out his hand to help Jim up. Jim ignored it and braced off the bumper, standing up.

"So am I," said the man. "I've been looking for an hour but I haven't seen even a trace."

"Oh." Jim stopped, a little surprised. "What's he like?"

"Uh…" the man scratched his head. "His name's Spinelli. Crazy hair, sticks out, you know, greenish eyes, let's see….kinda thin, short," the man sighed, shaking his head, then looked up. "Who did you lose?"

"Well, my friend Blair. He just walked out of our hotel room. We're on a dangerous case and I told him to keep me informed, but he just left, no cell phone or anything."

"Huh." The man stared at him curiously. "Well, you're not going to get very far smelling the street. Come with me, we can find them together." He turned and got back in the car, gesturing for Jim to do the same. Jim was confused. This guy had just met him, didn't know his name, and was inviting him into a black SUV with tinted windows. He shrugged. It was cold, his touch wouldn't dial down, and his senses weren't helping him find Blair. Who knows, maybe his assistant had met this "Spinelli", after all, they sounded pretty alike. Really alike, actually, except that Blair had brown eyes. And something told him that this man wasn't dangerous. Jim hesitated, then jogged around the other side and jumped in the passenger's seat.

Once he was in, he looked expectantly at the driver, who was giving him a funny look. It was like all horror movies, car door locked, big guy in the front, maybe sidekicks in the back?  
>"Seatbelt," the man reminded gruffly, and Jim, surprised, quickly clipped in. He hadn't expected that. Then he looked up.<p>

"Where should we look first?"


	4. Chapter 4Stoner Alley

Chp 4-Stoner Alley

I do not own General Hospital or Sentinel, all rights go to their owners.

A/N: Congratulations to suerum, who totally decoded my story and summarized the (yet to written) end. Thanks for reviewing!

Spinelli fidgeted for a few minutes as Blair moved on to expound about the benefits of healthy eating, which Jim apparently did not comprehend. _I don't blame him,_ he thought idly. _Neither do I._ He was starting to regret the development with Blair. Obviously they couldn't be friends-once Blair caught wind of the fact that he was close in association with the "criminal" Jason Morgan and the crime master Sonny Corinthos, Blair would want nothing to do with him. And worse, any slip up he made could be detrimental to his mentor or the organization. He shifted in his seat. Tonight he had not planned to stay coherent. That idea had a certain appeal now-he'd been clean for a few months, much to his chagrin. His hands trembled in expectation at the very thought of cargo from the drug express. Staring at his orange soda, the glazed surface reflecting the lights, he waited for a pause in his friend's monologue.

When it came, he quickly excused himself, too dazed to pay attention to his friend's curious glance. Rushing through the aisle between tables and booths he hurried out the door and turned towards the side alley. Finally concealed in the cozy interior of the narrow passage he leaned against the wall and rummaged in his pocket. The fixing's were there, salvaged from under his mattress back at home. _Not my home now_, he reminded himself, lighting up.

Just then there were heavy footsteps on the street outside. _Shoot,_ he thought. That must be Blair. But he didn't have the energy to put it out and try to explain himself. He took another puff.

Then there was a heavy hand on his shoulder, making him cringe away.

"Got something good there, boy?" Asked a gruff voice. Spinelli's first thought was that it was Jason. That would be terrible-first of all, he'd left and now- but Jason wouldn't do that. He would be disappointed; he would lecture Spinelli, grab him by the shirt and tell him that he was important and shouldn't do this to himself. Even Jason, though, with his rough ways knew better than to march up and scare him like that, with all he'd been through-

Wincing, he tried to focus on the person's face, but it was too dark and his bangs had fallen into his eyes. Spinelli passed the hand with the joint behind him, still wary of giving it up lest he waste some unnecessarily. He gave a dirty look anyway, hoping to intimidate them and make them less aware of their control. There was no way to pass them to the safety beyond and the alley was seeming more like a prison, a dead end, then the comfortable hide-out of a few moments before. Trying to twist out of their grasp he felt a lump of fear build in his throat.

"Let go! Let go, let go, let go, let go, let go, let go…." His voice rose in pitch and volume as hysteria took over him. He felt his mouth go dry and his breath bursting out in short gasps. Abruptly the hand let go and he saw the figure back away as he bent over wheezing and feeling faint. There was a silence for a moment before he looked up and saw that the man had stepped several steps away, palms outstretched in a submissive gesture, though he was still blocking the exit.

"Whoa, kid. its okay, relax, don't mean any harm here." He reached out a hand towards the kid and saw him seize up apprehension. Immediately he dropped his arm down by his side again and knelt beside the doubled over youth. "Sorry, sorry. I won't touch you. You just might want to put that out, it's going to burn your leg," He gestured to the butt still burning in the other's tightly clutched hands, which were resting on his knees.

Spinelli dropped it to the ground, where it sizzled for a second and then expired on the damp concrete. Great, that's the way to do it. Just have a panic attack and the hoodlums and ghosts back off. He tried to laugh but choked, coughing again and burying his head in his hands. "What do you want?"

"I'm looking for two guys, Blair Sandburg and Spinelli-, well, um Spinelli something. Any idea who I'm talking about?"

Spinelli chuckled at the irony of the situation and mumbled, _Almost killed one just now, big guy. _

"What was that?" asked the guy, giving him a funny look. Spinelli froze, had he heard him.

"Nothin'. Haven't seen any Spu-Spu-Spanoodle's tonight…" he faded off, feighning being stoned and collapsing back against the bricks. "Sorry," he slurred, sitting down with his feet up, grinning goofily and reaching into his pocket again. He waited for the receding footsteps signifying that the guy bought his act, but heard the stranger pause. Something warm and fuzzy was dropped into his lap, and then the intruder turned away, sighing and leaving. When he opened his eyes, he found the person's thick jacket sitting on his lap.

Jason was starting to get desperate. Nobody he'd called had any idea where the kid had gone, he'd looked for over an hour, and he was starting to worry that Spinelli was gone for good, disappeared off the planet. He marched into the sleazy bar, half-hoping to find his prodigy strewn across a stool and drunk enough to see sense, but also wishing that Spinelli would avoid a place like this at all costs. The mobster scanned the small perimeter, not finding what he looked for. A few guys laughing and talking in the corner, soused fulfilling their daily requirement, a grim bartender- a guy drinking orange soda but not his guy, so to speak. He remembered Jim and considered the patrons, but none of them fit the description.

He strolled over to the bartender, shifting the collar of his leather jacket on his neck. Where was the kid? He leaned on the counter, fixing a penetrating glare at the bartender.

"Seen two guys, short, brown hair, in their early 20s, probably getting smashed?" he interrogated intently. The guy frowned and gave him an ugly look.

"Who's asking?" Without hesitation, Jason leaned forward farther, as if to tell as secret.

"Listen, I'm Jim Ellison from over at the station. It's a tricky case; we're trying to bust some drug stuff…" He checked to see if the guy was buying it.

"Well…" the person paused. "I'd like to see an I.D. We keep a strict anonymity policy in this bar. Do you have a warrant to search the building?" Jason sighed, pushing off of the counter. The supposed dud had his act together.

"You know what, I'll come back later. They've probably moved on already, could be halfway to Mexico by now." He pushed off the counter and swung around, heading out the door into the frigid evening air. Jim was standing; arm's crossed, looking out at the sky.

"Any luck?" he asked.

"Nah couldn't get much out of him. I think we're on the right trail though. You see anything suspicious?"

"Just a stoner, that's where that strong smell was coming from."

It was only when they were in the "Mob mobile" again that Jason realized Jim no longer had his coat.

A/N: A little confusing, but it's all explained in the next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5 Into the Thick

Disclaimer: See first chapter

A/N: Sorry it took so long. Now for the moment you (may) have been waiting for!

Blair frowned, turning around from where he had sat stiff-necked at the bar, his hood pulled up while the gruff stranger had inquired roughly for himself and Spinelli. At least, that's what he thought. The "drug bust" ploy, abandoned so quickly, seemed to have been just a tactic to get an answer to his questions. But what would the tough mobster, _Jason Morgan, _want with them? No, it hadn't escaped Blair that the guy matched the description. He could see why the guy was searching for him- he could have caught wind of the new cops in town and wanted a word with them. As for the whiz kid- Blair had seen the look on Spinelli's face when he had mentioned that name.

His interest peaked; he slapped some bills onto the bar, everything in his pocket, which was probably only enough for the soda anyway. Following the man, he saw a black SUV pull onto the main road. Creeping around the corner, he looked into the dim alley and saw a shrunken figure in the corner. It was Spinelli, sitting in the midst of frozen pile of slush, something on his lap. In his hand was a joint, burning honestly.

"Hey," he muttered, sitting on the wet ground beside his friend. Great ice breaker, he thought wryly. "There was someone in there looking for you." It was a pointed question, giving him room explanation, but with an insistent undertone. Spinelli head drooped, his chin sinking into his chest. There was a long moment of silence.

"Stonecold… he's a good guy. Really, I mean, he always tries to protect everybody, no matter what it takes-he'd give anything, but instead he has to suffer- like a modern Prometheus. He saved my life," whispered Spinelli, sinking lower, his hand making the million mile journey to his face as he took a puff. Blair smiled sadly at him, and looked down.

"Yeah, Jim's protective. He's like that too," Blair chuckled, then became solemn again. "Whatever it is, we'll work it out, I promise." He watched intently, peeking at Spinelli, until his friend finally raised his head to look him in the eye. Wordlessly, he reached over and put his arm around the boy's narrow shoulder, Spinelli's lay his head on his shoulder, pulling him close in a gentle embrace. Blair reached out and pried the flaming butt from the clammy, frozen fingers and slipped it between his lips. After all, this wasn't the first time he'd done drugs, though since Jim he hasn't had much use for them. There's no way to hide that smell from a Sentinel, but now that he's on his own he can do it, if only for tonight.

Jim was in total panic mode now. Where could the kids have gone? He kept thinking about that stoner in the alley, frightened and cold. He was probably younger than Blair, but he had so much less to live for-no warm place to stay, no one to love him. Now at least he had a coat, Jim reasoned, but for some reason the memory wouldn't leave his mind.

As for Jason, he looked strained to the point of collapse. He was biting his fingernails, which was a pretty funny habit for a big tough guy like that. The poor man was obviously pretty freaked out about his prodigy.

It wasn't that he didn't know who Jason was-he'd known after the first five minutes of their acquaintance. Nor had he missed the fact that riding around in a criminal's car when you were a cop likely wasn't a very intelligent choice. But he'd left the rental car back at the hotel, which was a ways, and he didn't think he'd been detected. He was a little surprised-Jason fit the stereotype for a rough city mobster with his buzz cut and blistering muscles, guns and leather jacket. Yet, there were many startling things-he was clean shaven, clean in general, and he was out at ten o'clock on a Friday night looking for none other than he scrawny computer tech, who had left while he and his _girlfriend_ were arguing. Not only that, but he obviously felt guilty and was very enamored of his young friend.

What better way to examine someone than to spend the evening searching the city? Ironically, it was Jim who suggested the bar and the seedy hotel off of the highway, while Jason was more drawn to cafes and bed and breakfasts on their mission. Jim told himself it was just because he was realistic, but still… Who knew?

He was drawn out of his thoughts when the car came to a halt, idling in the parking lane close to the middle of town. He looked over at Jason, who scraped his hands across his face. They looked at each other.

"What are we going to do?" asked Jason, shaking his head. "We can't comb the entire city."

Jim sighed, looking out his window. Then suddenly, he stiffened, his head popping up and sitting straight in his head.

"What?" asked Jason, gazing at him curiously. Not answering, Jim struggled with the door and then jumped out, listening very carefully. His hearing seemed to have phased in again, more strongly than usual, and beyond the usual din of the city he heard breathing, Jim's breathing, strong and steady and beautiful. It was all he heard, as his senses blacked out to that single repetitive sound, frozen in time. He didn't hear the other car door open and shut, or feel the hand clasp his shoulder, or the coarse voice inquiring as to his condition.

He did feel the snow, freezing his skin where it had been pressed to the sensitive area at the nape of his neck. Flinching away, he stumbled and felt strong arms grasp his biceps before he fell and haul him to his feet. Jason's bright blue eyes scanned him worriedly.

"What's the deal there? You didn't look to good."

Jim just shook his head. The hearing was gone, but he had his clue. "Their near here somewhere," he mumbled. "Let's check this block again." With that he started briskly around the corner, Jason following him with a weird look on his face, probably wondering if he'd zone out again.

They found the boys tucked in a little alley, leaning against each other in the alley and smoking.

"Damn." Jim whispered, freezing in place even as Jason dashed forward. Finally, he ran over to where the mobster was crouched by them, reaching out a hand to put on the person, Spinelli, 's shoulder.  
>He stood, elated and worried. A frizzy head lifted and he was met by two beautiful brown eyes.<p>

Jim couldn't think of anything else.


	6. Chapter 6 We're Leaving You

Chapter 6- We're leaving you

Disclaimer: See first chapter

A/N: Sorry about the cliff hanger! I didn't even notice when I was writing it- I was tired and it just seemed like a convenient place to leave off. Here is an update to appease you!

Blair observed mildly as the burly guy, Jason, leaned down and grasped Spinelli's shoulder, looking extremely relieved. Earnestly, Blair noted dully. The mobster was a softy, at least for his protégé. A shadow fell over his form, and glancing up, he was shocked to see a very pissed looking Jim. Shoot, this was not good.

Then Jim did something Blair could have never foreseen. The Sentinel, the strong, tough, angry Sentinel, pulled him half to his feet and hugged him until his ribs ached.

"Ouch," he mumbled, hanging limply in the harsh embrace. He felt an odd numbness as a shocked Jim set him back down gently and took a step back.

"Are you hurt Blair?" He shook his head, shrinking under the concerned gaze. Jim receded to the other wall, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

"What the heck Spinelli!" Jason was saying loudly. "Why won't you just come home?" Blair watched as the said teen stood unsteadily, grasping the wall and wobbling. He ignored his mentor's hand, set to help him up. Clearing his throat he threw up his arms.

"We're leaving you!" He exclaimed in a high pitched voice. Needless to say, once the others recovered from their surprise they were greatly amused by the giddy proclamation. It was Jason that recovered first.

"Can you leave us tomorrow?" He asked, still smiling but an anxious undertone to his voice. Spinelli balked humorously, his face contorting in a weird frown. "We have Lays mesquite barbeque chips in the cupboard," Jason added, "and let's see, yes, there's a message from the one and only Maxie Jones on the answering machine." At these tantalizing offers, Spinelli's face lit up, but he looked over at Blair for conformation. Blair just nodded, too cold and tired to care anymore about being dragged back by the Sentinel.

"That's that," muttered Jim. He was still hurt by Blair's reaction when he had shown up and uneasy by the silence of his usually talkative guide.

Jason shepherded Spinelli out of the alley, directing him toward the car by his shoulders. Jim followed once Blair had stood up from the ground, remembering to grab his slightly damp coat from the ground. They went to cross the empty street.

Just as Jim had made it to the opposite curb, he turned to see a huge truck come out of nowhere, right towards to Blair, who was shuffling with his head down across the street. In the urgency of the moment, Jim struggled against his narrowing vision, focusing on the slim figure in the street, illuminated by the headlights, but the buzzing in his ears grew until he was completely zoned. He wasn't aware of the broad man who pushed past him, cursing, or the frozen hand on his arm.

He came up finally to hear a high pitched scream as Blair was tossed away into the pavement and the burly criminal fell forward before the forthcoming wheels. There was absolute silence as the car passed skidding to a stop on the ice.

"Stonecold!" yelled Spinelli, his eyes huge, his heart breaking as he ran forward. The car door opened as the horrified driver rushed to see what had become of the errant pedestrians.

Jason was curled into a tiny ball, his legs tucked beneath his torso and his chin tucked into his shirt. A few feet away, Blair lay prone in the slushy street, his legs askew, and his head lolling to the side.

"Oh my gosh," screeched the driver, a skinny blonde girl in thigh high boots. "Jason!"

The mobster unrolled, groaning, and stretching. "I'm okay," he announced, and crawled over to Blair. The others followed, looking on. "Hey, Blair," whispered Jason. "Talk to me man."

There was yet another pause as the person in question lay still, but then he rolled over slowly, moaning. Jim let out a breath and rushed to his side. "Blair, are you okay? What hurts?"

"Mmm, I'm okay. My head hurts, though," he said, clutching at his much abused face.

"Dude!" said Spinelli. "That is like, the second time today!" The two mentors sighed in unison. Maxie, rolling her eyes, got back in the truck that she had cajoled and threatened from Sonny (does Sonny have a truck) to truck home her Christmas tree and drove away.

Jim and Jason helped Blair into the truck and Spinelli decidedly took the drivers seat. They decided to take the hurt hipster to Urgent Care to get his head checked, since his noggin had made a pretty intense impact with the street. Jason kicked Spinelli out of the driver's seat of course, since it was his car, and he didn't like his spacey ward driving anytime, least of all stoned. And the entire drive to urgent care was a lecture from Jim and Jason on the idiocy of drugs.

A/N: Kind of short, I know. The next update will be tomorrow though-


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7- Back together

Disclaimers: See chapter 1

It was a general consensus by all the people involved that pot and concussions were not a good combination. The urgent care doc, rubbing his own head and looking tired, sighed and seemed depressed. Jim was freaking out, and Jason was thinking of all the things he was going to lecture Spinelli on when they got home. First, he was going to have to vow **never** to get involved with Maxie. As for Blair, he was just tired and achy, ready for a good night's sleep.

His hopes were thwarted however, when the doctor informed them of typical care for a concussion. No reading, working on the computer, concentrating hard- basically everything that Blair's job at the university asked for. Drink a lot of water, no herbal teas/weird natural concoctions, etc. (at Jim's questioning) and finally,

"Keep an eye on him tonight-don't let him sleep, make sure he is coherent and his pupils look normal. Call me if you have any question, I'll be here until at least seven in the morning… "Blair groaned, closing his eyes. If it was going to be a long night, maybe he could just sleep a little now…

"Chief?" It was Jim's voice, soft and concerned. What was it now? He wondered groggily, opening his eyes just a slit to see all three of them staring at him intently.

"What? You said I was going to have to stay up!" He exclaimed, as loud as his aching head would allow. The doctor chuckled, and the other two relaxed.

"Better find him some distractions." The doctor said, before directing them to the reception desk.

Jim and Jason argued over the bill, which was pretty large for just one check-up, especially since follow-ups had to be scheduled as well. Of course Blair didn't have health insurance beyond what the Cascade police department provided, which only applied on the job. Despite the Sentinels attempts to talk Blair into buying student insurance, to the point of even offering to buy it, Blair had argued that his emergencies were always on duty and anything less he took to the natural living clinic, which didn't insurance didn't pay for anyway.

Jason demanded to pay because it was his young charge that had gotten Blair stoned, which had slowed down his reflexes. But, as Jim pointed out, Spinelli had also taken Blair into the warm bar so he didn't freeze to death, and kept him securely in one place until he could be found. Besides, Jason had helped him also, driving him around all night when he didn't even know him. In the end, Jim won, simply because Blair needed to go home and Jason was concerned that Spinelli had been alone in the car, not at all sober, reprogramming the GPS for almost forty five minutes.

When they got back to the car, the computer geek wasn't there. Luckily, before either of the mentors had gotten an ulcer from trying to keep track of the younger men, Spinelli rushed out of the nearby Safeway lugging a grocery bag and a TEDDY BEAR? Jason didn't even want to know this time. When he reached the car and hopped in the back seat next to Blair, Jason gave him a funny look.

"What did you get?" He asked, turning around and reaching out to pull aside the top of the plastic bag to see, but Spinelli jerked it from his hand.

"You'll see," he said cheekily, grinning weakly.

"Okay, then. Where's you guy's hotel?" asked Jason, revving up the SUV.

"Wait, Stonecold!" yelled Spinelli, casting an apologetic look at Blair, who had put his hands over his ears at the loud yell. "The Jackal thought perhaps the Burdened One and Hulkman should-"

"Hulkman?" asked Jim puzzled. "And who's the Jackal?"

"The Jackal is me and Hulkman-"

"Is me!" announced Blair, grinning and nudging Spinelli. The rest of them laughed.

"Maybe not, Hairboy," said Jim, and then realized who was. "Oh gosh. Hulkman?"

Spinelli rolled his eyes, well accustomed to people resenting their rightful titles, namely Sonny. "As I was saying, they should come to PH. That way we can all look after Blair, which would be hard for Jim alone. Besides, they are staying at the Country Inn. Wasn't somebody murdered there last year?" He inquired. Jim frowned.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Since you wouldn't let me pay."

"Oh, and Stonecold?"

"Mmmhmm," muttered Jason.

"Will you drive my to the Sweet Blonde one's home tomorrow, to drop off this bear-"Jason's eyes grew wide and he swerved, exploding before he remembered Blair's sensitive head.

"What! Maxie almost ran us over tonight! What did I tell you Spinelli, about smart dating choice-"Spinelli grabbed his shoulder, not wanting to relive that awkward discussion.

"Whoa, Stonecold, chill man. Not Maxie, but Sweet Georgie. She has the flu."

Jim watched, amused, as the tough mobsters whole body relaxed. He had remembered, when Jason said they should come stay, that this could be a set up, but he had trouble doubting the innocent and caring man in the backseat, or even Jason after the events today. He didn't take Spinelli as much of a ladies man, but, hey, Blair was small and smart and he did better Jim.

They reached the penthouse a few minutes later, which awed Blair. He leaned over and excitedly whispered to Spinelli, the two of them looking shocked at his epiphany and then giggled.

"Better watch, it girls," remarked Jason wryly. "Wouldn't want the gossip to spread." Jim laughed at that, seeing how Jason ached to hear what they said. He had heard it, but it didn't make sense. "Another similarity -how coincidental."

Inside PH they set up the TV room so that it was comfortable for whoever was staying up. No one was willing to go to sleep yet, so they arranged themselves. Then, much to the awe and amusement of his comrades, Spinelli withdrew the contents of the mysterious shopping bag. First, there was the movie the Source Code, which both he and Blair loved. Next, bananas, since Blair had mentioned that was an essential food in the duos diet, orange soda, because there was none at PH, and microwave popcorn. He went to heat the popcorn and grab some barbeque chips, as well as check the message from Maxie. Unfortunately, it wasn't what he expected.

"What the heck Jason! You lost Spinelli again! What kind of person are you- By the way, Georgie is sick and now you've got her all worried because she is wondering why Jason Morgan is calling at seven o'clock in the evening to Officer Scorpio's house and you think I can lie to my sister, of all people? Yeah right, you're a selfish-"

Spinelli sighed and shut it off. Though he had little interest in Georgie's older sister, the girl was quite a trip. Jason must have called looking for him- he hoped the Faithful Friend was alright. Grabbing his phone, he quickly tweeted a message to her phone, hoping to relieve all worry in the obviously troubled household.

Without further adieu, he returned to the living room with a smile and the fresh popcorn, only to find his three friends leaning against each other like dominoes, all fast asleep.

He decided he better put the movie in.

A/N: I'm a liar-I promised you an update yesterday. Just one more chapter, this is longer than I expected. Hope you liked it!


	8. Chapter 8

See first chapter for disclaimers.

It was a long night, the first of many good times. The four men sat up in the T.V. room of PH watching the Source Code, and, once they'd finished, various shows. They ate bananas and popcorn, and of course barbeque chips and orange soda. Jim threw out some of Jason's protein shakes claiming they smelled "moldy", which made Blair and Spinelli cheer from the couch.

The next morning, Jim was up earlier than the rest of them, since they had all retired very late (or early). He called the Cascade police station to explain the deal to Simon.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Sometimes he's not on the same side of the police. But I've seen this guy and his sidekick; heck, their better than half of our agents with their values. These guys are heros-" Then, after a moment: "No, he is NOT a psychopath!"

From the stair landing Jason smirked, waiting until Jim sighed and hung up before going downstairs.

"You know," he said casually, fishing the milk for coffee out of the fridge. "Blair's head injury might warrant an end to this case you've been working on. Port Charles is to dangerous for you, and you can get out without looking dumb."

Jim stared at him, momentarily floored. "You knew?"

"I suspected."

Meanwhile, upstairs in the Regrettably Pink Room, Blair stretched and sat up on his air mattress. Tiptoeing to the hallway, he listened carefully and then crept back.

"Spinelli," he whispered, poking his friend. Spinelli just groaned and buried his head in the mattress, making Blair laugh. "I think they got it figured out down there."

Then he crawled back into bed, not being one to get up that early.

THE END …. ?

A/N: Short I know. Quick question, though; you know that scene where Spinelli is drinking orange soda and vodka and Jason walks in and takes it away and then they talk? (And Spinelli punches Logan later?) Does anyone know if that is the PH living room? It kind of looks like it, but I'm not sure.


End file.
